


Dissolve

by Cunninglinguist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Angst, Bodily Fluids, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Denial of Feelings, Dirty Talk, Established Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, Gay Sex, Hair-pulling, Harry Potter Has a Crush, Invisibility Cloak (Harry Potter), Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, One-Sided Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Slytherin Common Room, Smut, Teenage Drama, Underage Sex, Voyeurism, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 00:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15785121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cunninglinguist/pseuds/Cunninglinguist
Summary: Malfoy was up to something, Harry just knew it—and he would go to any lengths to find out what it was. However, when he decided to sneak into the Slytherin common room with the invisibility cloak one night, he ended up getting a lot more than he bargained for, including revelations about not only Malfoy's sexuality, but his own. Alternatively: in which Harry Potter "accidentally" watches Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini get it on.





	Dissolve

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This fic is set during "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince," making the boys 16 & in their sixth year at Hogwarts. It is also unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Also, I am obsessed with the idea of Draco having real friends/a boyfriend/someone who actually cares about him at school, so this is sort of a smutty exploration of what that might look like during his first year in a difficult position as a new Death Eater. 
> 
> And, of course, please, please, please read the tags.

Harry’s blood surged with adrenaline as he slipped easily into the Slytherin common room behind one unsuspecting Blaise Zabini. Malfoy’s dot on the Marauder’s Map had barely budged from the common room throughout the day, not even for classes or dinner. If he were _just_ able to get in there, Harry was convinced that he’d be one step closer to finding out exactly what the shifty git was up to. 

Before he’d had even the barest of plans concerning how he was going to actually accomplish this feat, Harry had thrown on the invisibility cloak and was barreling through the corridors towards the dungeons in little more than his pyjamas and slippers. 

 

Fortuitously enough, Slytherins were Slytherins: Blaise Zabini had been making use of the shadowy spaces in the halls as he slunk back to the dormitories after curfew. From the looks of his bag, he’d been in the library. Probably in the restricted section, looking up something wicked and dark. 

Maybe something for Malfoy. 

The common room was just as eerie and unique as Harry had remembered, all stone walls and lush fabrics bathed in the greenish glow from the lake that seeped in through the windows to intermingle with the torchlight. It was oddly comfortable, in its own way, if you were into skulls and taxidermy. 

It was also completely deserted, save for Malfoy, who sat cross-legged on the velvety forest green sofa in front of the fireplace. Despite the late hour, he was still dressed in his uniform—sweater vest, tie, and all—though his robes were tossed over an arm of the sofa, and his polished loafers were set primly to the side. His forehead was lined in concentration as he avidly pored over a weighty tome, and Harry could see now that he had not imagined the sickly pallor of Malfoy’s face, nor the dark circles ringing bleary grey eyes.

Blaise set his bag down and gingerly took a seat next to Malfoy, whose head jerked up in surprise. He acknowledged Blaise with a curt nod and returned to his reading. 

This seemed promising. Harry crept closer and crouched next to a high-backed chair directly across from his Slytherin suspects. If Malfoy were to divulge anything about his mysterious endeavours to anyone other than Crabbe or Goyle, who were conspicuously absent, it would likely be Blaise Zabini.

“Burning the midnight oil, Draco?” asked Blaise, his mouth set in a prim line. 

“Mmm.” Malfoy nodded absently and turned the page without looking up. 

“You weren’t in Transfiguration today.”

“Mmm.”

“Did you have dinner?”

Malfoy shot him an irritated look. “I’m studying, Blaise.”

“For what?” Blaise seized the book and flipped it shut. “‘A Comprehensive Guide to the Maintenance and Restoration of Magical Objects?’ What class could you possibly need this for?”

Malfoy snatched it back with considerable effort, folding his arms over it almost possessively. “None of your bloody business, that’s what!”

Looking greatly put out, Blaise scooted slightly closer to Malfoy. To Harry’s surprise, he reached out an elegant hand and set it tentatively on Malfoy’s knee. 

To Harry’s even greater surprise, the scowl on Malfoy’s pointy face softened. He relaxed slightly, letting his shoulders slump forward.

“You’re really not going to tell me what’s going on?” The care in Blaise’s voice threw Harry for another loop. He shifted, suddenly incredibly aware of the fact that neither Blaise nor Malfoy had any idea that they were being watched. 

“It’s...it’s nothing.” Malfoy conjured a silky black ribbon to mark his place before sliding the bulky book to the side. He shifted his weight, clasping his hands in his lap and absently picking at his thumbnail.

“You must truly believe me to be an imbecile if you expect me to believe that.” Blaise was so close that his thigh was pressed to Malfoy’s. “You’ve been skipping class. You’ve all but quit the Quidditch team. You haven’t been sleeping. You haven’t been eating. And...where’s your prefect badge?”

Malfoy crossed his arms and glowered into the fire. “Noticed all of that, did you? How uncharacteristically observant.”

Blaise pulled a face. “You _do_ think I’m an imbecile.”

Malfoy offered a feeble smirk in return. “Maybe I was hoping you were more of an imbecile than you are. Congratulations, Blaise, you’ve actually defied my expectations of idiocy. It’s not often that I can say that.”

Ignoring the joke entirely, Blaise leaned in and lowered his voice significantly, so that Harry had to strain to hear what he said next. “You honestly thought I wouldn’t notice that you’d been acting strangely? After all of last year, and everything that happened between us? Hell, Draco, you gave me…we had...” 

Blaise trailed off, looking very much at war with himself. Harry was beyond grateful for the invisibility cloak; he didn’t think he could mask his confusion if he tried. 

Steeling himself, Blaise stuck his nose in the air imperiously. “I was under the impression that we really...that we had something. Then, come summer, you just disappear. No fire calls, no owls, nothing. Then you come back and...well, you know we’ve barely spoken. You’re acting like you don’t even know me, nonetheless…” 

Malfoy let out an indignant huff, but Blaise rubbed his knee almost _soothingly_ and continued, “I know that things with your family got a bit cocked up, and I know that it’s been hard. I know...I know that _he_ gave you something to do, something important, and, honestly, you don’t have to tell me about that, you really don’t, but it’s just...it’s just...Draco, I miss you.”

Harry’s incredulity was mirrored by Malfoy, who gawked at the raw display of emotion from the usually cold, tightly-wound boy before him. A thousand feelings battled their way across Malfoy’s face, and his mouth opened and shut a few times before he asked, almost meekly, “You...miss me?”

Blaise took Malfoy’s hands in his own. “Yes, you daft bastard, I miss you! I miss you so much, as my friend, and as my...as more.” 

“Shhh!” Malfoy’s head whipped around, paranoia briefly tainting the blush rising on his high cheekbones.

Blaise huffed a laugh through his nose. “Sorry. I just...I wish you’d talk to me, that’s all. I wish you’d…” Now his face reddened significantly. “I wish you’d let me kiss you, and touch you. Like you used to.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. Malfoy...Blaise...Malfoy was _dating_ Blaise? Malfoy was… _gay?!_

This was...entirely unexpected.

“You wouldn’t want me now,” said Malfoy, his voice breaking slightly as he turned away.

“And why not?”

“I...there are...just trust me, you really wouldn’t.”

“Are you mad?” Blaise cupped Malfoy’s face in his hands and forced their eyes to meet. “I want you so badly I could fucking scream, as undignified as that sounds.”

“You _are_ fucking screaming, shut it!” hissed Malfoy, but he was looking at Blaise with a fond expression that Harry had never imagined he’d see on that angular face.

“Can I kiss you?” Blaise whispered, his dark eyes smoldering. “Let me kiss you.”

To Harry’s ever-growing shock, Malfoy nodded and parted his lips.

Harry’s heart was pounding harder than it had all night. He knew he should leave, and part of him _wanted_ to leave, but the other part of him...oh, what did it matter? He was glued to the spot, eyes fixed on Blaise and Malfoy kissing each other deeply, and in that moment he knew that everything Blaise had said was true: they had history, they were lovers. This revelation made his brain whir senselessly, like every single barmy instrument in Dumbledore’s office put together.

Malfoy was snogging someone. Another boy. Blaise. Malfoy was snogging Blaise in front of Harry. Well. Not that he _knew_ that Harry was there, but Merlin’s sodding beard, anyone could have walked in! 

The thrill and novelty of it all made Harry’s stomach flip. It was just curiosity, of course. Harry had never snogged another boy, and he was curious to see if it was any different than snogging a girl. Not that he had ever snogged _anyone_ the way Malfoy was snogging Blaise, or even seen anyone else snog the way Malfoy was snogging Blaise. He didn’t know if he wanted the kissing to stop or not, but he did know that it was suddenly unbearably hot under the cloak.

The snogging did not let up. In fact, it escalated so rapidly that Harry did not know what to do with himself. 

Nor with his cock, which was swelling in his pants, much to his abject horror.

His exhales were short and shaky as Blaise pushed Malfoy onto the sofa, the magical objects book falling, forgotten, to the floor. Blaise shrugged off his robes and grey sweater vest, tossing the garments carelessly aside to join the discarded book. Malfoy yanked him down by his tie and whispered something in his ear that made Blaise’s eyes flash hungrily.

Harry watched, dry-mouthed, as Blaise and Malfoy feverishly undressed, his cock responding in kind as they groped and kissed each other. At last, they were down to nothing but socks (black and green argyle on Blaise, slate grey on Malfoy), pants (tight and black on the both of them, and fucking hell, had they gotten them specially tailored to their arses? Was that why they looked so good?), and rumpled white button-downs. 

Blaise kissed Malfoy’s collarbone as he started on his buttons, an action that pulled gasps of delight from kiss-swollen lips. When he went to push the shirt off his shoulders, a pale hand stayed his fingers. 

“This stays on,” said Malfoy, panic flickering across his face. 

“But—“

“Just leave it,” snapped Malfoy. When Blaise looked mildly alarmed, he schooled his features and leaned up to kiss Blaise hotly. 

“You’re so bloody gorgeous,” said Blaise, voice strained with arousal as he hooked nimble fingers into the waistband of Malfoy’s pants. 

Malfoy grabbed his wrist. “For fuck’s sake! The charms, Blaise.”

“Right.” Blaise smiled sheepishly, then reached down for his wand to cast some quick (and rather sloppy, in Harry’s opinion) silencing and Notice-Me-Not charms. 

Luckily for Harry and his voyeuristic inclinations, he was close enough to remain utterly unaffected by the protective enchantments. 

“Better,” sighed Malfoy, lifting his hips as Blaise pulled his pants off. Harry dug his nails into his thighs at the sight of his erection against his flat, trembling stomach. “Now hurry up and fuck me, will you!”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and possibly through the roof of the castle. Had Malfoy just said…? Was he going to…?

Malfoy was _fucking_ Blaise? Not just snogging, not just dating, but _fucking?!_ Harry didn’t know anyone who wasn’t a virgin! Well, at least no one had told him anything to the contrary, and Harry knew Gryffindor blokes liked to talk, so he figured there would be some sort of general announcement, or possibly a parade, as first shags happened.

But this...with them? Now?

Harry didn’t realize he was clenching his teeth until a dull ache pulsed in his jaw.

“As you wish,” said Blaise, and something in his voice made Harry’s chest feel strange. Blaise stood briefly to shrug out of his shirt, and holy hell, he was fit: he was tall and lean, with nicely toned muscles, like a dancer or something, and miles and miles of flawless dark skin. He stepped out of his pants, revealing a magnificent prick, long and fat, curving slightly to the right, and positively dripping with precome.

“Wait.” Malfoy scrambled to his feet to press a quick kiss to Blaise’s lips. “Did you mean all of that, earlier? About me? About us?” 

“Yes,” said Blaise gravely. Harry squirmed, again acutely aware of the intimacy he was not meant to be witnessing, but then Malfoy dropped to his knees and Harry’s brain went off like a firecracker.

“Oh, shit.” Blaise looked down at Malfoy almost reverently, biting his lip as he stroked a hand through now-disheveled white-blonde hair. 

“Didn’t think I’d forgotten how much you like this, did you?” Malfoy’s voice was teasing, almost playful, and he looked right up into Blaise’s face as he parted his lips and sucked his cock into his mouth.

A tremor wracked Blaise’s body as Malfoy’s head bobbed. Harry’s face burned at the obscene slurping noises, his cock pulsing sympathetically as he watched Blaise’s erection disappear into Malfoy’s mouth, only to reappear spit-slick and harder than before, over and over.

Malfoy tilted his head slightly, causing Blaise to let out a loud groan and tighten his grip on Malfoy’s hair. “You’re so good at that, baby. So fucking good.”

Though his mouth was full, Malfoy moaned and redoubled his efforts. Before Harry could fully wrap his brain around the fact that he was watching Draco sodding Malfoy _sucking a cock,_ Blaise pulled him to his feet and kissed him passionately. Harry thought he might pass out when Blaise shoved Malfoy down onto the sofa and murmured, “My turn.”

The garnet flush on Malfoy’s heaving chest was visible through his open shirt as Blaise crawled between his splayed legs. He lowered his head, resting one hand on Malfoy’s inner thigh, effectively holding him open, while the other disappeared somewhere Harry couldn’t see. Harry had the perfect view of Malfoy’s face as Blaise worked, and he couldn’t believe how fit and _sexy_ Malfoy looked, letting nearly all of his carefully maintained guards down as he allowed himself to be held down and pleasured by Blaise’s hands and mouth. His eyelids fluttered, his hands ran over Blaise’s short hair and twisted in the seat cushions, his swollen, wet lips parted to let out the most sinful little gasps and moans, his feet flexed and pointed...

Harry’s hand was down the front of his pyjamas before he realized what he was doing. He was so hard, _painfully_ hard, harder than he’d ever been before in his life, and he found himself wishing desperately that _he_ was in Blaise’s place, that _he_ was slipping his tongue and fingers into Malfoy’s most private and sensitive areas, tasting his sweat and arousal…

Utterly indifferent to what any of this might mean to him later on, Harry slowly pulled on his cock, just once, hips stuttering as hot fluid pulsed into his palm. Right now, the only thing he cared about was getting off to the erotic spectacle unfolding in front of him before he died of pure need.

“Blaise,” panted Malfoy, knocking a socked heel against Blaise’s sweat-slick back. “Blaise, get on with it, I’m ready. I’m ready. Come on.”

With a growl, Blaise surged up and kissed Malfoy, giving Harry a glimpse of Malfoy’s cock, which looked so hard and wet that Harry _throbbed_ for him. “How do you want it, Draco?”

Malfoy smirked deviously. With an unforeseen burst of strength, he pushed Blaise into the high-backed chair that was, to Harry’s perverse delight, close enough for Harry to reach out and touch...and definitely close enough for him to see _everything_. 

Blaise bit his lip, watching Malfoy slink towards him with predatory eyes, shamelessly assessing his body as Malfoy straddled his lap and bent forward for a kiss. Blaise fisted the sweaty fabric of Malfoys shirt, which slid down to reveal ghostly pale, bony shoulders. He lifted the shirttail, and Harry could see his fat prick rutting between Malfoy’s arse cheeks. 

“Put it in,” ordered Malfoy breathlessly, reaching behind himself to grip Blaise’s cock. “Don’t make me wait.”

“You wouldn’t know patience if it slapped you in the face.” Blaise murmured something unintelligible, then reached around to prod at Malfoys arse with slick fingers—must be one of those spells Ron had told him about two summers ago, thought Harry deliriously as he tugged on himself. He wished to high heaven and back that he could perform nonverbal lubrication charms as he watched Malfoy’s tight arsehole stretch beautifully around Blaise’s cock, and fuck--how was it even possible?

“Fuck.” Blaise’s fingers dug into Malfoy’s hips as he sat all the way down. “Oh, fuck, Draco.”

A pang of desire so primal and fierce tore through Harry as he watched Malfoy tremble, face buried in Blaise’s neck as he adjusted briefly to the stretch. After a moment, he began to move, circling his hips, keeping most of Blaise inside of him as he gyrated.

He leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “Did you really miss me over summer hols, Blaise?” 

Blaise kissed him viciously, slowly thrusting his hips and pulling a groan from Malfoy’s mouth, only to swallow it greedily. “So much, baby, so much. I thought about this, thought about you—oh, _fuck!_ —everyday.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Malfoy’s face was so open, almost vulnerable. Harry’s hand faltered on his cock as something hot and aching bloomed in his chest.

Blaise stopped moving and looked earnestly up at Malfoy. “You know I can’t lie to you.”

“I _don’t_ know that.” 

“Draco,” said Blaise, planting little kisses along Malfoy’s sharp jawline. “I’ve wanted you for years, and I never thought I’d have you. I would never fuck this up. I…” He kissed Malfoy’s neck and swiveled his hips. “I care about you.”

“Mmm!” Malfoy’s eyes squeezed shut, face contorting like he was in pain as he leaned into the sensation. Blaise’s mouth moved across Malfoy’s chest as he thrust into him, sucking lovebites into delicate, easily bruised flesh.

Harry wanked himself furiously, realizing he was gazing in equal parts arousal and fascination. He was in awe of...everything. Of Blaise’s blatant feelings for Malfoy, Malfoy’s pervasive insecurity and uncertainty, of the way they looked together—Blaise’s large elegant hands splayed possessively on Malfoys round arse, his full lips sucking on exposed nipples, the mind-shattering sight of Blaise’s slick cock sliding in and out of Malfoy’s body… 

And their movements! They clearly knew one another’s bodies, and good fucking lord, Harry had no idea that either one of them could move like that, especially Malfoy—Harry’s brain was taking an unprecedentedly long time to reconcile the sneering, buttoned-up prat he saw every day with the flexible, undulating boy panting and writhing in Blaise’s lap.

“That’s it, baby,” murmured Blaise, shifting in a way that made Malfoy toss his head back and cry out in bliss. Harry would have come right then and there if he hadn’t had the wherewithal to grip the base of his cock. He wanted to wait, wanted to see them come. 

He _needed_ to see _Malfoy_ come.

“Do I feel good?” Malfoy’s eyes were screwed shut, his arms around Blaise’s neck, hips moving sensuously.

“You feel _so_ good.” Blaise pushed Malfoy’s shirt off his shoulder a bit more and buried his face in his armpit, inhaling deeply. Harry’s cock jerked unexpectedly at that. “Fuck, you smell good, too.”

“You’re disgusting,” sighed Malfoy, but he held Blaise’s head in place as his arse bounced faster. “Oh, fuck me harder, Blaise, I want it to hurt.”

“Anything for you.” Blaise hauled Malfoy off his lap and pushed him onto the floor. Malfoy gasped as he fell hard onto his hands and knees, but shot Blaise such a fiery look that heat flared in Harry’s gut. 

Blaise hurried to kneel behind him, eyes burning as he guided himself back inside. He was unabashed in his roughness, lean abdomen flexing deliciously as he yanked Malfoy back by the hips.

“Yeah, just like that,” panted Malfoy, eyelids fluttering as he sucked excess saliva back into his mouth. “Pull my hair, pull my hair!”

Blaise slapped Malfoy’s arse so hard, it was a wonder it didn’t wake the entire castle. “You know you need to ask properly, Draco.”

Draco let out a gorgeous whimper that had Harry biting his lip, hard. “Please, Blaise. Oh, please pull my hair Blaise, please.”

Blaise bit his lip, buried his hand in Malfoy’s sweat-damp hair, and _yanked_. “Like that?”

“Yes,” sobbed Malfoy, back arching as his arms trembled with the effort of holding himself up. Harry had to stifle a moan at the sight of Malfoy’s prick leaking onto the ornate carpet. “Yes! Harder.”

“Merlin, I’m so hard for you, Draco, you’re amazing, I’m so...oh fuck, I think I lo—“ Blaise inhaled sharply and cut off his own babbling by leaning down and sinking his teeth into Malfoy’s bare shoulder. Harry thought for a moment he saw something dark under Malfoy’s sweat-soaked sleeve, on his forearm, but he only saw it for a second, then Blaise’s hand was snaking between Malfoy’s legs and Harry forgot all about it. “I’m so close, baby, are you close?”

Malfoy's hips stuttered and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh, hell, I am now. Mmm, fuck, Blaise...oh, fucking hell.”

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Come. I’m going—oh, god, Draco, I’m going to—“

Malfoy’s entire body went rigid and he let out the most incredible noise that Harry had ever heard, a sound of pure, unbridled ecstasy that was somewhere between a whimper, a moan, and shriek, as he came. Harry’s vision tunneled; he bit down on his own fist hard enough to puncture the skin and released violently into his pyjamas, eyes flickering between Malfoy’s blissed-out face and the pearly white fluid splattering the Slytherin crest carpet. Blaise thrust into Malfoy’s convulsing body one, two, three more times before stilling and coming with a long, loud groan. 

Harry exhaled shakily, dazed and slumped under his invisibility cloak, drenched in sweat and covered in his own spunk as the glorious haze of his intense orgasm faded. He stared dumbly at Malfoy and Blaise, who were kissing as though their lives depended on it, Blaise’s front pressed to Malfoy’s back, cock still hard inside of him. 

“Push it out, baby,” murmured Blaise, gently pulling out. ”I want to see.”

“Yeah?” Malfoy chewed on his bottom lip and shifted onto his forearms, and Harry nearly came a second brutal, shuddering time as he watched Malfoy’s puffy arsehole wink open and shut as he pushed Blaise’s copious release out of his body to drip lewdly down his thighs and onto Blaise’s softening cock.

“Merlin’s bloody bollocks,” whispered Blaise, awe-struck. He stared at Malfoy, who looked absolutely gorgeous and ethereal, face and chest flushed, sweaty hair askew, thoroughly shagged. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Stop it.” Malfoy blushed and rolled onto his back, glancing affectionately at Blaise before sitting up and running a hand through his hair.

“So...we’re okay, right?” Blaise rested his back against the armchair, looking at Malfoy like the sun shone out of his arse.

Malfoy hesitated. “I...don’t know.”

Blaise’s face fell. “It felt like you knew a minute ago.”

Malfoy gave him a sharp look. “I imagine it did, considering that you were inside of me. That’s all this is, isn’t it? A shag?”

“Draco, what? No! I’m telling you it’s—“

“Oh what are you, a bloody Gryffindor now?” Malfoy stood up and furiously grabbed his wand, casting a harsh cleansing spell over only himself and doubling the silencing charms. He began angrily buttoning his shirt with trembling fingers. “You don’t have to pity me, to pretend this is something more than it is, and frankly, this sentiment is making me want to fucking sick up.”

“I know what you’re doing, you absolute arse. You can’t push me away by being willfully obtuse.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Malfoy stepped into his trousers shakily and stooped to pick up his book, bag, and robes. With a sneer, he turned on his heel and marched towards the staircase that led to the boys’ dormitories. “We shagged, and that’s it!”

“I know you don’t believe that!” Blaise, still arse-naked, flaccid cock shiny with lube and come, ran after Malfoy and grabbed his wrist. Malfoy spun around to regard him with the most gut-wrenching combination of terror, pleading, longing, and ire that Harry had ever seen. “Draco, please. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be alone.”

“You have no _idea_ what I do and do not have to do!” Malfoy’s voice was riddled with vitriol as he wrenched himself free. His lower lip wobbled almost imperceptibly. “You could never help me. You could _never_ understand.”

“Give me a chance to try!” 

Malfoy threw his hands up and let out a noise of frustration. “I can’t fucking do this right now, I just can’t--leave me alone!”

With that, he stalked up the stairs, leaving Blaise to call after him in a harsh whisper, trying not to wake anyone. When it became abundantly clear that Malfoy was not coming back, Blaise allowed himself to deflate. He slowly pulled on his clothes and slumped into the sofa, right where Malfoy had sat, and buried his face in his hands. 

The silence became oppressive as the reality of everything that Harry had just witnessed covered him like a dementor’s shawl. It was definitely time for him to leave, though he had not gotten anything that he had hoped--or wanted--to get out of this foray into Slytherin territory. With extreme discomfort (in all senses of the word), he tucked himself into his soiled pyjamas and made sure the cloak was perfectly in place before slowly creeping towards the exit. Just before he slipped into the corridor, he could have sworn he heard a muffled sob coming from Blaise’s general direction. He did not turn to confirm the suspicion. 

On his journey back to Gryffindor tower, Harry tried not to think about all of the questions that he had hoped to answer that night. He tried not to think about the dark thing he might have seen under Malfoy’s shirt, the thing that he had carelessly decided not to investigate in favor of more...deviant pursuits. 

He tried not to think about the questions that _had_ been answered that night, which were questions that he had no idea he’d wanted to ask. Worse even still: he tried desperately to push all thoughts of Draco sodding Malfoy out of his head, including the possible disastrous outcomes of having to see or interact with him ever again. 

The thing was, though, every time Draco Malfoy popped into his head, something gooey and warm uncoiled deep in Harry’s belly, making it damn near impossible to stop thinking about the evil tosser.

Once he finally cleaned himself up and crawled into bed, Harry fell asleep the same way he had done all year long: watching Malfoy’s dot pace back and forth in the Slytherin dormitory. He hoped that all of these confusing feelings and revelations would blow over and become unimportant come morning, so that he could get back to figuring out what exactly Draco Malfoy was up to. 

He also decided resolutely that he would _not_ be telling Ron and Hermione about this escapade.

**Author's Note:**

> Ta da! I was finishing up one fest fic and outlining another when this idea just slapped me in the face, and I could not rest until I wrote it. I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please leave me a comment and/or drop some kudos, positive internet reinforcement is my life's blood!
> 
> This fic was written to music (big surprise, I know), so here is the lovely/creepy [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y6ekwmA4vpE) that both inspired the title and provided an ambient soundtrack on this wild ride. 
> 
> As always, feel free to give me a shout on [Tumblr dot com](http://hannibalssweaters.tumblr.com/)! Keep an eye out for upcoming fest fics from me about these beautiful wizard idiots.


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